


Yeah, you, you got that somethin’

by purple_skies



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: 6th year, F/M, Prefect Rounds, Ron really just wants to hold her hand
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-01
Updated: 2020-04-01
Packaged: 2021-02-28 22:20:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,163
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23424646
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/purple_skies/pseuds/purple_skies
Summary: Prefect rounds had become about ten times more enjoyable since Ron had broken up with Lavender.Since Lavender chucked him, a voice inside his head (that sounded suspiciously like Hermione, all haughty and know-it-all-like) corrected, but regardless.
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Ron Weasley
Comments: 5
Kudos: 65





	Yeah, you, you got that somethin’

**Author's Note:**

> Some liberties (re: timelines, Harry and Ginny’s hookup v Ron and Lavender’s breakup, what a reasonable prefect patrol route might be, whether prefect rounds were actually even a thing by the end of 6th year) were taken in the creation of this story. All in the name of fluff.

Prefect rounds had become about ten times more enjoyable since Ron had broken up with Lavender.

_Since Lavender chucked him_ , a voice inside his head (that sounded suspiciously like Hermione, all haughty and know-it-all-like) corrected, but regardless.

Back in the fall, after he'd first snogged Lavender and Hermione'd set her blasted birds on him, he had _known_ this fight would be different when he showed up to prefect rounds to find Ernie Macmillan waiting for him outside the Fat Lady's portrait. Hermione had swapped shifts with him, and even after his birthday, when they were speaking again, she refused to switch back, saying that she rather enjoyed her evening patrols with Hannah Abbott, _thank you very much_ , and that it was important to promote inter-house unity.

Which would all be well and good if Ernie Macmillan wasn't such a massive _git_.

So it was to Ron's absolute delight when, the first Tuesday after the break-up, he found Hermione waiting for him outside the portrait hole, a smirk on her face. He had been so surprised that he hadn't even thought to tease her about inter-house unity until halfway through their shift.

And as the weeks flew by, while nothing monumental happened, it somehow felt different than it had before. They seemed to walk a little closer together than they used to - their arms brushed more regularly, at least. And sometimes, sometimes it would take several hallways, or even a staircase, before they'd pull apart. They seemed to laugh more, too, and though they bickered just as much, there was a warmth between them that perhaps hadn't always been, softening what could have started a row into something much more like banter.

And though Ron would never admit it out loud to anyone, it wasn't until he saw his best mate snogging his baby sister that he realized that accidental arm-brushing, though exhilarating in itself, might just not be enough after all.

And so, when they set out for rounds the following Tuesday, Ron dug deep to find that Gryffindor courage he seemed to hear so much about, reached down, and grabbed Hermione's hand.

She'd made a small noise of surprise, but had kept walking, which seemed to be a good sign, and had not snatched her hand back, which bordered on a great sign. Ears burning, he chanced a look down at her. Hermione's cheeks were flushed pink and she was staring straight ahead, but the corner of her mouth was twitching violently, as if she was trying desperately to fight off a smile.

Ron grinned widely, the heavy weight that had settled on his chest minutes ago (or maybe years, if he was being honest) exploding upward and out of him. He felt truly and wildly happy, in a way reminiscent of his love-potion induced stupor from months before, and in another way completely different, because this was _real_. This was _Hermione_ , and he was holding her hand.

"You don't have to look so smug about it," she huffed beside him.

He tried to bite back his smile as he looked down at her again. Hermione rolled her eyes dramatically, which let him know he was doing a fairly bad job, but that was okay because so was she - by the time she completed her eye roll she was grinning broadly.

"Do _not_ ," said Hermione quickly when Ron opened his mouth to speak, so he snapped it shut obediently. He didn't know what she was warning him about (do not speak? do not gloat? do not ruin it?), but he knew enough to heed her.

They followed their familiar path in relative silence, peaking in classrooms and broom closets, checking behind tapestries, working their way through the castle more thoroughly than maybe they ever had, and more quietly, too.

Ron was much too elated to mind the quiet, squeezing Hermione's hand experimentally as they approached the astronomy tower, enjoying the thrill of her squeezing back.

They looked at each other, then. Really held one another's gaze.

"Ron," Hermione whispered, somewhat breathlessly, and that was really all it took. Ron bent down and brought his lips to hers tentatively, hoping this wasn't too soon, hoping he wasn't misreading the signals, hoping that--and then he lost track of what he was hoping for, because Hermione's lips moved against his and her free hand cupped his cheek and-- _yes_ \--she was kissing him back.

Ron felt as if his heart might pound through his chest as he drew her closer, their hands still clasped together tightly, his other hand finding the back of her neck, fingers winding into her hair. Hermione's own hand slid from his cheek to his shoulder, leveraging the position to pull him nearer still.

It was several (seconds, minutes, hours, days?) before Hermione pulled away, breathing heavily, eyes lidded. Ron could barely think, staring hungrily at her lips even as she stepped fully away, dropping his hand for the first time since they left the common room. He took a step toward her instinctively, but she drew back further still, not meeting his eyes, two of her fingers on her lips.

Ron felt his heart drop into his stomach, familiar anxieties running through his head ( _she didn't enjoy that, she doesn't want this, she's realized now that he isn't worth the time, he isn't good enough for her, he isn't--)_ , and he felt suddenly very exposed, in the middle of the deserted hallway, outside of the astronomy tower, where his heart was sure to be broken into pieces so small it would never be fully rebuilt.

"S-sorry," he stammered out, much more loudly than he'd meant to, "I-I shouldn't have--"

"No!" said Hermione suddenly, reaching out and grabbing his wrist. "No-no-no, Ron, _Ronald_ ," she reached up then and grabbed his face with both hands, forcing him to really look at her, and she was smiling quite widely. He wasn't quite sure how he'd missed it before, but relief flooded his chest.

"You can be so infuriating," she said very determinedly, before rising on her tip toes to kiss him very briefly, dropping down just as his arms snapped back around her waist. "I just needed a second to process."

"Oh," he said stupidly, grinning at her. "Right. And?"

"And?" she repeated teasingly.

"And now that you've processed...?" he asked, trailing off purposefully in a way that he knew she would find annoying but hoped she would also find endearing.

Based on her eye roll and warm smile (he was sensing a pattern), he was right on both counts. "I've barely had time to process a thing! You were so quick to have a meltdown--"

"That was _not_ a meltdown," Ron lied indignantly, which made Hermione snort and drop her hands from his face. But before he could even contemplate _another_ meltdown she slipped her hand back into his and began dragging him back along their route.

"Are we _seriously_ going back on our prefect rounds?" He asked, somewhat incredulously, once his brain clocked back into his surroundings.

"Of course we are," snapped Hermione (but with the aforementioned warmth that had made these rounds so pleasant, even before the potential for snogging), "and I'll not have a professor catch us--" but she couldn't quite finish her sentence, colour blooming to her cheeks. "Shut _up_ ," she said at Ron's poor attempt to hide his laughter.

"Catch us _what_ now?" asked Ron, because he really couldn't help himself.

She shook her head and muttered, " _so_ infuriating" more to herself than to him, marching onward, tugging him along affectionately.

After a brief run-in with Mrs. Norris ("We're prefects you ruddy cat, we're _allowed_ to be here!" "Oh hush, Ronald.") and an awkward chat with Sir Cadogan on the seventh floor ("Finally rescued the damsel, eh?" "Er, I wouldn't--we haven't--" " _Goodnight_ , Sir Cadogan"), they found themselves more wandering than purposefully heading back to the Gryffindor common room.

"So..." said Ron bravely.

"So..." Hermione echoed.

Ron squeezed her hand and pulled her just a bit closer. "So, quiet night, eh?"

She grinned. "Rather dull, all things considered."

"Nothing of note, nothing substantial. Nothing at all life changing."

Hermione swung in front of him at that, looking at him warmly even as his ears reddened dramatically.

"Life changing, huh?" she asked, almost shyly.

"Well, er...yeah. For me, yeah, I reckon...yeah." Ron brought his free hand up to the back of his neck and rubbed it awkwardly.

Hermione stared at him for several seconds, as if daring him to take it back, but he didn't. He couldn't even if he wanted to.

She swung back to his side and resumed walking. "For me, too."

Warmth bloomed in his chest for what felt like the millionth time that night, and he grinned down at her.

"You know," she said then, thoughtfully, "we really ought to talk about this, first. Before anything else happens, we should talk about what this means for us, about what happened this year, how to tell Harry, if at that point there's even anything to tell--"

This time it was Ron's turn to stop them, tugging on Hermione's arm gently, and she fell silent. He felt his stomach clench at the intimation that maybe once they really talked there'd be nothing left to tell, but he fought the instinct to self-destruct. They'd both just admitted this was life changing. He wasn't turning back now.

"We should--we should talk about it. You're right," he said, as steadily as he could manage. "But it won't change anything for me. This," he gestured between them, "is what I want. What I've maybe always wanted..." He coughed uncomfortably. "I sound like a prat."

Hermione just beamed at him. Then, as if she truly couldn't help herself, she rose to her tiptoes and pressed her lips to his, so quickly he had barely registered she'd done it before she pulled away.

"Sorry," she said, though she didn't look it, "I just...I've wanted so long to be able to do that, now I can't even follow my own rules."

Ron shook his head, chuckling. "I don't think that you're as much of a rule follower as you think you are."

" _I_ think you're a bad influence," she replied archly. His stomach swooped - they were flirting, this was _flirting_ , and he'd just been kissing her, so flirting shouldn't feel so exciting and yet--

"Just you wait," he whispered, bowing his head and kissing her firmly, thrilling as her lips parted against his. She wrapped her arms around his neck and deepened the kiss and for all too short a moment he was lost entirely to the thumping if his heart and the feel of Hermione pressed against him. Languidly, she pulled back to meet his gaze.

"We ought to get back," Hermione said, breathless, though showing no sign of moving, arms still firmly in place.

He wanted to protest. He wanted to stay in this moment with her forever. But really, they were pushing their luck already; it was long past curfew, and a professor stumbling upon them right now would truly kill the mood.

Sighing heavily, Ron nodded. "Fine, but only because I want to spend every spare second I have snogging you, and detention would get firmly in the way of that."

Hermione snorted, burying her head in his chest for a moment, and he hugged her against him.

"If it wasn't already perfectly clear, I think you're wonderful. And I--I am just so happy," she mumbled into his chest, so much that he felt the words more than heard them.

His heart, utterly, soared. Hearing those words, coming from Hermione, even after everything tonight, it still felt...unbelievable. Like she had him confused with some other bloke. But here she was, wrapped up in him - _him_. His eyes felt wet, all of a sudden, and he began blinking rapidly, immediately petrified that he may start sobbing all over her and instantly lose whatever cool points he'd earned for his excellent flirting of just a few minutes ago. He didn't trust himself to speak, he just pressed his lips to her hair and hugged her even closer, swaying them back and forth.

After several more seconds she peaked up at him, and he knew instantly that he'd done a poor job of masking his emotions by the way her eyes softened. She shifted backwards, so he loosened his grip around and let her take his hand, lacing their fingers together and leading him the short walk back to Gryffindor common room.

Just as they were approaching the portrait hole, Ron cleared his throat, feeling it crack just a little. "Me, too."

It was all he could say. It was too much and not enough, but the way she looked at him--she understood.

The Fat Lady gave them a knowing smirk as she beckoned them in a few seconds later. They each took a deep breath, and entered the common room, hand in hand.


End file.
